time travelers
we shared a table
under the art tent
then a table next
to the pizza truck
at the sunday school
saturday kickoff
I remembered her
even though I had
not seen her in three
summers I didn’t
recognize her I
said to her father
she’s four now he said
and I realized
two and a half years
to me was half of
her entire lifetime
she wasn’t coming
back she was tracing
new lines coloring
fresh pages playing
tag eating pizza
in a world broken
open not broken
closed her pandemic
came early while mine
came late I am old
enough to remember
she’s young enough
to forget the half
of her life spent in
masks and missing all
that happened before
I’m a grief-pilgrim
she’s a wonderer
we used to cross paths
at coffee hour we
try to remember
the kind of september
where life feels tenuous
at least for me
she is still coloring
Peace,
Milton
PS–My writing here and in my newsletter are offered for free, thanks to the help of my members who help to support me. You can subscribe to my weekly newsletter (which is also free) and become a member. Thanks for reading.
